


His Legacy

by Spooberdem



Category: Avengers: Endgame - Fandom, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Welcome to my shitshow, also peter morgan and harley are the greatest genius sibling trio to ever exist, and harley keener as.... you'll see;), but anyways, can't be too careful, endgame spoilers, fight me, i mean if you haven't watched it by now then you're crazy, morgan stark as a true gift to this world, never mind, no spider-parker, starring peter-man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 23:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18905119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooberdem/pseuds/Spooberdem
Summary: 'The schematics depict another Iron Man suit, but this one doesn't feature an Arc Reactor in the chest. The faceplate is silver-grey, and the suit itself is predominantly black, with dark blue accents. Judging by the specs, it's made for someone with another build than Tony. Harley can't figure out who until he reads the file name again: HK.'





	His Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched Endgame and had too many thoughts, so this fic is a thing now I guess.
> 
> Okay, a bit of rambling before we get this shitshow started (READING THIS PART IS OPTIONAL):  
> 1\. This fic combines a bunch of headcanons I had after Endgame, put into a hopefully coherent plot  
> 2\. If you've read my other Harleypeter fic, Two Stars Set Adrift, then some themes might seem a bit similar but I promise this fic is more light-hearted. Because I have no shame for plugging my stuff, the link for that story is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18693706)  
> 3\. This fic was intended to be around 4k words, but I kept writing and now it's 7.9k so if the pacing is weird or could be better, tell me and I'll see what I can improve
> 
> Any errors are mine, so let me know if you see any. 
> 
> Kudos, comments and creative criticism are welcome. Enjoy!

     The lab is cold.

     Harley shivers in his hoodie as he steps into the darkened space. There are no lights blinking, no machines whirring. The room is devoid of life or spark. He runs a hand along a counter, grimacing at the fine coating of dust on his fingers. If Tony were here, there would be too many things moving around the lab for dirt to settle, but now it's been a week since the funeral and it doesn't look like anyone has entered.

     'Hello, Mr. Keener,' FRIDAY greets him.

     'Hey, FRIDAY,' he says softly to the AI. 'Turn on the lights for me, will you?'

     'Activating lights, sir.' The soft beams snap to life, allowing Harley to take in the full chaos of Tony's workshop.

 

     An entire table is obscured in a jumble of wires and cables. Another is covered in random pieces of metal, some recognizable as parts of Iron Man suits, others twisted and warped. Seated on the counters are various half-finished projects. The cabinets that line the walls have clearly been thrown open and rummaged through as Tony looked for one thing or another, not bothering to check if he closed them. Random chip bags and empty Red Bull cans are scattered throughout the entire place. The lab is truly disastrous, but it's uniquely _Tony,_ and the mess is so prevalent that it seems like he never left. If not for the silence, Harley could almost believe that the man would walk in here any second and keep working on his latest invention.

 

_That was what was supposed to happen,_ Harley thinks. Tony should've gone with the Avengers, saved the world, undone the Snap and been back in time for dinner. He was _Iron Man_. Harley had seen Tony at some of his lowest points, when he thought that he'd lost, but he'd always managed to pull off one last miracle. Now? This house and the people living in it will never see him again.

 

     For Harley, it's been only a few weeks since Tony made his monthly visit to Tennessee. Then the Snap happened, and Harley was trapped in a realm between life and death while the world kept turning without him. Another snap and five years later, he was back and Tony Stark was dead. No closure, no way to say goodbye. He shoves the thoughts out of his head, tucks them away like he hasn't been stewing idly in his sadness all week. Harley didn't come down to the basement for another trip down memory lane, he came because he needed something to do. A distraction.

 

     The only surface untouched by Hurricane Tony is the hologram table, a pristine slab of glass and metal in the center of the room. With a simple gesture, files, diagrams and trails of data spring to life, the projections casting a blue glow over everything. Harley waves most of them away, leaving a large series of folders labeled in a shorthand he doesn't know. On the left side of the screen is a panel called 'Current Projects'. Harley taps on the first file, labeled ‘HK-IM-M1’, curious to see what Tony was working on before he left the house.

 

     The schematics that burst into life depict another one of the Iron Man suits, but this one looks different from Tony’s typical models. It doesn't feature an Arc Reactor in the chest, just a central power source like the War Machine or Rescue armor. The faceplate is silver-grey, but the suit itself is predominantly black, with dark blue accents. Judging by the specs, it's made for someone with another build than Tony, someone a little taller and lankier.

     Several notes are stacked at the bottom of the blueprint. Harley taps on one, which reads, _Have this ready for the kid when he gets back._ He can't figure out which 'kid' Tony's referring to until he reads the file name again. _HK_.

 

_No, it can't be_. Harley begins scrolling through the diagrams. Tony wouldn't have made him a suit, would he? He gets to the last image, and there's the proof.

     A retractable potato gun,mounted to the right forearm. 'Mark III' is engraved on the side.

 

     It's going to be a long day.

 

*****

 

     Thank god for Tony's Red Bull.

     Harley walks over to the minifridge, opens a can and downs it in several gulps. Discoveries like this at nine in the fucking morning warrant copious amounts of caffeine. Or something stronger, but sadly enough Tony seems to have drunk all the alcohol in the lab beforehand, judging by the empty bottles, and Harley doesn't think Pepper would let him raid the liquor cabinet this early in the day. He grabs another can and returns to the table, looking over the blueprints.

 

     Besides the potato gun, the suit (Harley can't think of it as _his_ just yet) contains most of the usual Iron Man weaponry and capabilities, including repulsors, explosives and flight. There's no AI installed or planned for it yet, Harley sees, but that just means there's an opportunity to code one. Tony's left some room in the suit's volume as well, probably so Harley can customize it and make his own additions. It's too much to take in, too much to comprehend, until Harley sees the note typed on the side: _In cabinet C-26_. Holy shit, Tony started building this thing. There's an Iron Man suit that's meant for him somewhere in the workshop.

 

     Harley finds the drawer quickly, pulling the whole thing out of the cabinet to set on another table. The suit isn't finished yet, but Tony made all the armor plates and did some of the initial wiring before he left, so he figures that he can probably complete the model from there. Fitting it all so the nanotech functions will work might be a little harder, but Harley decides that if he can't do it, he can leave the suit without the tech and try a different day.

 

     Hastily, Harley sweeps all of Tony's mess off the table, laying out each armor piece on its surface until the suit comes together like a puzzle. The final product approximates a human of Harley's height and physique, erasing any last doubt as to who its wearer is supposed to be.

     His mind is still reeling in shock and awe, and grief, because Tony's not here to show Harley the suit himself, and he never will. Tears spring into his eyes again, the ones that he's been shedding since Tony died and now he sees that _He cared enough to build me a suit_. His breaths are running faster and faster, and the sobs are going to arrive soon if he doesn't do anything, so Harley starts going over the components laid out in front of him, making a mental list of what he'll need to do first.

 

     Parts of the limbs are connected together already, but most of the joints will still need to be fitted. Programming and coding will have to wait for another day, but Harley thinks he can probably keep wiring and connecting cables and lines right now. Everything he'll need is stored in the blueprints. In the face of an objective, the sadness is quickly ebbing to the background as Harley's mechanical mind takes over.

     He takes a deep breath. Building tech breaks down to science and logic. _This_ is something he can work with, not painful emotions. Quickly finding the tools and supplies he needs, Harley picks up two pieces and gets to work.

 

*****

 

     'Harley!'

     He looks up to see a small dark-haired figure barreling into the workshop. Dropping his tools, Harley crouches down to embrace Morgan.

     'I made a Lego ship!' she tells him excitedly. 'It's red and yellow and Peter says that if we can find the right stuff in here then we can make it fly!' Harley grins at her enthusiasm. Morgan's essentially imprinted on Harley since he arrived at Pepper's house, and she's always delighted to see him.

     'Maybe not fly. I think we can make it hover, but the Lego weight capacity compared to what we'll need to give it free flight probably won't…' Peter trails off as he realizes that Morgan isn't listening. Harley looks up to see the other boy leaning against the doorframe.

 

     In all honesty, Harley hasn't talked to Peter much, despite the other kid being around his age and staying in the same house for the next month. After the funeral, both of them could tell that the other needed some space, so apart from an introduction and brief conversation, Harley hasn't made contact. Tony's talked about Peter before, how he's as smart as Harley is and how he's Spider-Man, but he's never asked Peter about all that yet. Bugging someone about being a hero when the one they both look up to just sacrificed himself seems a bit tactless.

     Plus, y'know, cute boys usually make his brain short-circuit and incapable of speaking, but those are minor details.

 

     'Whoa, what is this?' Peter walks over to the holo table.

     'I, uh, I went through some of Tony's designs, and I found this,' Harley explains, letting Morgan go wander off. _Wow, I got through an entire sentence in front of Peter Parker without stumbling?_

     'Holy crap,' Peter says softly, bending over the mask to examine it. Clearly he notices the differences in suit size and color scheme, because he asks, 'It's for you?' There's no hint of jealousy in his voice, just curiosity.

     'I think so. He made all the armor, but there's a lot of things I'll need to do. And he left some space for me to put in my own stuff. If I can get it to work, this is gonna be awesome.'

     ‘Sweet,’ Peter studies the hologram. Harley can see a bit of the longing for Tony return to his face as he clicks through the blueprints, but it’s also full of interest as he makes comments under his breath like ‘That could be useful' and 'Wow, Mr. Stark'.

 

     ‘Hey, why do you call him 'Mr. Stark'? Why not just Tony?'

     'Because…' Peter blinks. 'I don't know, when I met him we were saying that I was interning under him, so it seemed respectful.'

     'Respectful? Please, his ego doesn't need to get any bigger.'

     'No, but he's- was,' Peter catches himself, takes a moment. 'He was a really great guy.'

     'He was a little shit.'

     'Did you just-?'

     'Yeah.'

     The two of them burst out laughing. It feels good to laugh again after the emotional toll of the last week and a half. Harley lets himself revel in the happiness of this small moment.

 

     'Shit,' says a small voice. Harley looks over to Morgan, who's clambered up onto a counter and is now grinning at him with that particular expression of evil that only little kids can have. His eyes widen as he realizes his mistake.

     'No, no no… oh fu- dammit,' Harley mutters. 'Please don't tell your mom, okay?' On the other side of the table, Peter is laughing again. Harley gives him a death glare, which only makes him lose it even more. It's a pleasant sound. Harley decides that he wants to hear it more often.

     He turns back to Morgan, who replies, 'I don't care. Daddy says that all the time. It's just funny to see your face 'cause you think you messed up.' Harley lets out a sigh of relief.

     Oh yeah, this is Tony's kid.

 

*****

 

     He spends the rest of the day in the lab with Peter, the two of them installing wires and other internal parts for the armor. Considering that the two of them have mutually ignored each other since they met, it's surprising to Harley how well they work together almost immediately. Maybe it's common interest, or the fact that they're both science and tech geeks. He can’t believe that was stressing over talking to the boy; it's like Harley and Peter have known each other for a long time.

 

     It feels amazing to be working on a project again, to have ideas in his head and tools in his hands. In the time since Tony’s death, Harley spent most of it doing nothing, unable to snap himself out of his grief. Now, the pain still lingers but he’s able to shove it down and keep his focus on the metal armor before him.

 

     Morgan wanders in and out of the lab as they work, bringing in snacks. At one point, she drags Pepper downstairs to show her what the boys are doing. Pepper just has time to give them a distracted smile and a 'don't break anything' before she has to head back again. There's a lot of legal stuff she's dealing with, what with Stark Industries losing its founder. Harley admires her tenacity. Anything to do with forms and lawyers gives him a headache.

 

     ‘Oh god, what time is it?’

     'It is 11:57pm, sir,' FRIDAY announces from the ceiling. Harley gets up from his seat and stretches, running a hand through his hair. Peter looks at him, then turns away quickly, and Harley thinks it might be a trick of the light but is that a faint blush on his face?

 

     ‘I think I’m gonna go to bed,’ Peter manages to say through a yawn. ‘You?’

     ‘Eh, I might,’ Harley shrugs. ‘There’s a few more things I wanna do.’

     ‘Alright. You need me here?’ He asks even as he stands up to leave.

     ‘Nah, go to sleep. See you in the morning Peter.’

     ‘Okay. Goodnight, Harley.’ He looks back to the blueprints. Harley wants to be as far along with the suit as he can before he retires for the night. When he's working on a project, sleep is for the weak.

     As Peter walks out of the lab, Harley lets his gaze slide over him, glancing downwards for just a second before forcing himself back to his task. _Now is_ _not the fucking time._

 

     Several hours later, he's exhausted but Harley's gotten a lot of work done. Propping his legs up on the edge of the table, he leans back in his chair, intending to rest for only a moment. He figures he fell asleep at some point, though, because the next thing Harley knows Peter is standing in front of him, shaking his shoulder.

     'Dude, it's almost four. What are you still doing down here?'

     'Huh?' Peter is leaning in pretty damn close to his face, close enough that he can make out the different shades of brown in his eyes. It's distracting, in a good way, but now's not the place or time to focus on that.

     'I gotta get back to work,' Harley sits back up properly.

     'C'mon, no, you need to go to bed.'

     'But why?'

     'Because human beings need sleep, and I'm pretty sure you are a human being.'

     'Am I, though?' Peter studies him, staring at his face intently, and Harley does his best not to turn red.

     'Since you have this much stubbornness, no, you're probably not.' His attention drifts to the suit. 'Oh my god, is that a potato gun?'

     'Yeah. It's kind of an inside joke. When Tony broke into my garage I nearly shot him with one.' Peter laughs.

     'He's told me that story.'

     'What else did he tell you about me?' he asks, curious.

     'That you were a pain in his ass from Tennessee.' Harley thinks on this for a moment.

     'That's about right.'

     'He ever say anything about me?' Peter twirls the gun in his hand before setting it back on the table.

     'Sure. Said you were this genius kid in Queens who could walk up walls and shoot spiderwebs.' _Tony didn't tell me you were cute, though,_ Harley nearly blurts out, but (attempting) to flirt while sleep deprived is probably not a good idea.

 

     Even though Harley is running on not enough energy and too much Red Bull (As he continues to chug can after can, Peter makes a disgusted face) he continues with the suit's assembly. Peter helps keep him awake with funny stories about Tony, from 'Seriously, he actually phoned in the middle of class just to yell at Flash about me' to 'Don't talk to him before he's had his morning coffee, he got distracted and he set the toaster on fire'. Both of them get to know each other a little better too. Harley tells him about his mom and his younger sister, and Tony's trips to Rose Hill.

     'The neighbors hated me 'cause I made a lot of noise in the garage, until one day Tony freaking Stark rolled up to my house in his Bugatti. They stopped complaining after that.'

 

     The sun is just peeking over the edge of the horizon before Harley decides that continuing to procrastinate sleep really won't end well. There's a stack of Red Bull cans and an empty bag of Doritos haphazardly perched on the corner of the table, and the provisions left in the lab won't be enough for Harley to keep working any longer. He leaves everything where it is and stumbles upstairs to bed with a quick 'Goodnight' to Peter, falling into a peaceful, dreamless slumber at once.

 

*****

 

     After getting what is definitely not a healthy amount of sleep, Harley's back in the lab as soon as he can the next morning, armed with a gigantic mug of coffee and renewed excitement. Picking up right where he left off, he half-zones out of reality and back into work mode, fixated only on what's in front of him. Setting up the wires requires lots of subtle adjustments, and he can't afford to make a big mistake lest the suit blow up when he tries to activate it.

 

     He's only snapped back to his surroundings when footsteps come into earshot. A moment later, a bedhead-ridden and very sleepy Peter Parker makes an appearance, yawning unabashedly. He stretches his arms above his head, causing his shirt to ride up a bit, and Harley tries not to stare but from what he can see underneath Peter's clothing, _damn._ What the hell is he wearing a baggy sweater for?

     'Uh, how are you awake and functioning?' Peter asks.He picks up Harley's coffee and takes a sip before nearly spitting it out all over his clothes. 'Oh my god, there's like zero sugar in this.'

     'Yep. Keeps people from trying to steal it from me.' Harley gives Peter a mischievous look. 'Like you.'

     'Dammit.' Peter braces himself and takes another sip, his need for caffeine apparently winning out over his distaste. 'That doesn't answer my question.'

     'I'm awake because I have zero sense of self-preservation, and science is cool. Oh hey, what's that?' He's drawn to the red-and-blue bundle in Peter's hands.

     'This,' Peter unfurls the material, 'is my suit. One of them, anyway.' He drops the outfit onto a counter. Harley's all over it immediately, examining the web shooters and asking Peter how they work while the latter stands off to the side with an amused expression.

     'I brought this thing down here 'cause I want to modify it,' Peter says. 'The school labs don't have resources advanced enough for me there, I've tried.'

     'You take the suit to _school_?' Peter makes a _Why not?_ gesture.

     'Never know when someone's gonna need a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.' The term is kinda cheesy but also kinda cute, and it makes Harley grin. 'What?'

     'Nothing,' he replies hastily, turning back to his work.

 

     'Okay then,' Peter refocuses. 'What if I did _this…_ ' he has FRIDAY bring up a holo of his suit's schematics, manipulating the image and drawing some new ideas. Harley takes a moment to watch him, not that he didn't see this yesterday but Peter looks freaking adorable with his morning hair stuck up, the blue light from the hologram reflected in his brown eyes so it looks almost like stars. _Get a fucking grip, Keener_ , he tells himself, going back to his own suit. _Jesus, when did you_ _get so goddamn sappy_ _?_

 

     Morgan comes down to the basement sometime around eleven.

     'Brought you pancakes!' she says proudly, setting a plate down in front of each boy. There's way too much syrup poured on it, but hell, it's energy so Harley shrugs and takes a sugar-saturated bite. Halfway across the workshop, Peter has no inhibitions about the food either, practically inhaling the thing without looking down.

 

     'Oooh, whatcha doing?' Morgan clambers onto Harley's lap and looks at the diagram he's working off of.

     'This is something your Dad started,' he says, making sure to keep his voice gentle in case she reacts to the mention of Tony. 'I'm trying to keep building it.' He glances at the diagram, mapping out a more complicated section of inner workings. Harley's been struggling with one particular step for the last little while, and the only notes that could be of help are in Tony's shorthand. Despite being able to read the man better than some others, Harley can't decipher all of Starkspeak. He adjusts his grip on the tool in his hand and tries again.

 

     'No, no, no.' Before he knows what's happening, Morgan's plucked the screwdriver from his grasp. After one more careful skim over her father's notes, she begins tweaking something within the armor.

     'Morgan, be careful,' he protests, but he sits and lets her play around with the screwdriver for a few minutes. When she pulls away, Harley's amazed to see that she's actually almost nailed the diagram's instructions, leaving just a quick adjustment for him to fix. She turns around and blinks innocently.

     'You were doing it wrong.' Morgan slides off his knee and begins walking over to the cabinets.

     'Where'd you learn that?' Harley calls after her. She rolls her eyes with a level of snark that only a Stark can possess.

     'Daddy taught me. Duh.' Morgan pulls some paper and a pencil from a drawer and settles herself at another table. 'I know how a lot of stuff works. It's easy.' She directs her attention away from Harley, leaving both him and Peter staring after this freaking _4-year-old_ who can understand parts of Iron Man suits better than he can.

     'Did anyone ever tell you you're a genius?'

     'Yep!'

 

*****

 

     Harley's not a deep sleeper.

     After Tony broke into his garage, and the events that followed, he's adapted to wake up quickly and easily. It's a both a blessing and a curse, but either way, he jolts up at a sound across the hallway, something between a sob and a scream.

     Cautiously, Harley pads into Peter's room. He's turning and fidgeting in his bed, face twisting in pain as he cries something like 'I don't wanna go' and tears run down his cheeks. He sounds so weak and insecure and it's terrible to witness.

     'Hey, wake up,' he says gently, squeezing his arm. Peter opens his eyes immediately, startled but quickly settling down when he realizes who Harley is. 'You all right?'

     'No,' he says, so quietly it's almost a whisper. 'Nightmares...' his voice drops off. It strikes Harley like a shit ton of bricks then, that Peter might be his age but he's had far more terrible experiences. The kid's been to space, he's been in huge bloody fights and he's watched Tony Stark die in front of him. Being a hero is never, ever as glamorous as the news might make it out to be, Harley knows that, but Peter is a freaking teenager and it's not fair to him to have to face that reality so soon.

     'Wanna talk about it?' Peter shakes his head mutely. 'Okay. Don't worry, you're going to be fine.' The words are empty and both of them know it, Peter may never fully recover from what he's been through but Harley sits on the edge of the bed and tentatively hugs him. He doesn't recoil from the contact, leaning into it until his shuddering breaths even out. Even after that, Peter doesn't let go.

     'Do you want me to stay here?' Harley asks.

     'Um, can we go to the lab instead?' Peter pulls away. 'I-I want to do something.' Harley nods. He gets it. They're the same in that respect: You feel sad? Distract and try to move on before it can consume you.

     'Sure,' he stands up and holds out a hand to Peter, giving him a reassuring smile. 'Let's go, shall we?' He feels the other boy take his hand, intertwining their fingers, and together they make their way downstairs.

 

*****

 

     'What's it like, living with spider powers?' Harley's working at a metal joint with a wrench while Peter sits across the table, taking apart and adjusting a web shooter on his Spider-Man suit.

     'It's… there's a lot more information to take in. All my senses are dialed way up.' Peter grabs his suit mask, showing Harley the optical sensors. 'These help filter out the stuff I don't need to see or hear.'

     'There's nothing you can do to regulate the input?' Peter shakes his head.

     'Nah. Some times are easier to process than others, but I haven't been able to do much about it.' He puts the suit down. 'The 'sticking to stuff' thing sucks sometimes too. Like, I can do this,' Peter stands up and casually _backflips onto the fucking ceiling_ , hanging upside down, 'but I can't slide across floors.'

     'That's what you care about?' Harley's a little incredulous, even though he internally takes comfort in knowing that he's not the only teenager who still likes pretending to skate across floors in socks.

     'Aw, give me a break,' Peter grumbles, jokingly. 'I have to fight people, let me be immature.' Instead, Harley takes a running start and slides around the table to Peter, stopping with a smirk in front of him.

     Okay, that was a bad idea, because now Peter is actually staring straight at Harley, and since he's dangling from the ceiling they're at the same eye level and Harley would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to kiss him right there. The corner of Peter's mouth curves up in some knowing way, and it's all Harley can do not to lean in and-

 

     'Peter? Harley?' a voice calls. Both of them whip around to see Morgan at the door. 'Why are you on the ceiling Pete?' Peter jumps back down, landing almost silently on his feet with practiced skill.

     'What do you mean? I'm standing right here,' he says, pulling an adorably innocent face, and Harley has to look away while his heart does a thing. Morgan giggles.

     'No you weren't, you were on the ceiling!' she insists.

     'Morgan, what are you doing down here?' Harley asks instead, desperate to take his mind off goddamn Peter Parker and how cute he is.

     'I can't sleep,' she says, walking over to them. 'Daddy lets me come here with him sometimes, if I can't sleep.'

     'Uh, are you sure your mom will be okay with that? It's kinda late.'

     'Pleeease let me stay?' She gives him a puppy-dog look with big dark eyes, _Tony's_ eyes, and how can Harley say no?

     'Pepper is going to kill us,' Peter mutters, but he crouches down and lifts Morgan onto a stool. 'Alright, you can keep us company until we're done, deal?'

     'Yay!'

 

*****

 

     As soon as all three of them are seated at the table, Morgan pulls the mass of metal and wires from Harley's hands and begins fiddling with it, talking under her breath as she goes.

     'Okay, you have to take these two,' she says to herself, 'and put them over here.' Morgan doesn't have the full vocabulary to express what she means, though she can associate the words with various complex parts of the suit and that isn't something most kids are doing at her age.

     'When did your Dad teach you all this?' Peter asks her as she rotates something within the metal plate, tongue stuck out in concentration.

     'Uhhh, I dunno. A really, really long time ago.' Morgan puts the tool down and slides the piece back across to Harley. 'FRIDAY?'

     'Yes, Boss?' She laughs at the nickname, but it's not lost on Harley that that's what the AI used to address Tony as.

     'You have a picture?'

     'Which one would you like?' FRIDAY confirms.

     'All of them!' Morgan claps her hands. A series of projections pops into the air, showing her in this same workshop. One depicts her carefully connecting parts of a circuit board under Tony's supervision. Another reveals her sitting on her father's lap as a toddler, his hands guiding her small ones as they put together different components for some project. A final photo is Tony pointing to various shapes on a blueprint while Morgan watches him intently.

 

_This is what I missed_ , Harley thinks numbly. He wasn't there to see Tony truly happy with his family. He never got to meet Morgan while she had both parents who loved, and still do, love her. Instead, he's only getting to know Morgan after her life took the same path he walks on, a road absent of a father. Harley looks over at Peter, and he can see the same thoughts reflected in his own expression.

     Morgan's smiling at the pictures as her gaze darts from one to the next. Then, as if a light shuts off somewhere inside her, her face falls.

     'I miss Daddy,' she mumbles. 'Love him 3000.' Harley doesn't know what that means, but he has a good guess.

     Morgan's not crying, there's no hint of tears at all, but the hopelessness now written on her face is something worse. He should know; he's seen the look in his reflection enough times. It's a week after the funeral, and this is the final acceptance, the last spark of any hope snuffing out because the person you loved is gone and you can truly see that they will never come back. Peter's lost three fathers now. Harley's lost two. This is Morgan's first time, though, and it will always ache the most.

     Not that the others didn't hurt, or will ever stop hurting.

 

     Harley stands and gently lifts Morgan up, lets her wrap her arms around his neck.

     'You'll be okay,' he consoles her. 'We all miss him too.' But Morgan looks up, and the unconscious despair in her eyes is so similar, too similar to the one reflected in Tony's when Harley first met him. He does his best to hold the tears back, he has to stay strong for Morgan, but the problem with bottling up emotions is that they will always flow over eventually, and that time is now.

     Harley stumbles over and sits down on the floor hard, back against one of the counters with Morgan on his lap. She's holding him now, more than the other way around.

     'Are you okay?' Peter asks, but his voice seems a thousand miles away now and Harley can't think of any response.

     'Hey, you good?' he repeats, and now the sound is closer. Harley turns to see Peter sitting beside him on the ground, face contorted in worry.

     'Yeah,' he says, but the words come out as a croak. 'I'm fine.' Louder, more steady. 'I think.' A laugh erupts from one of them, but it's short and wry and humorless.

     'Okay,' Peter scoots closer until they sit shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip and reaches for Harley's hand with a soft smile, mirroring what Harley did for him just a few hours ago. Morgan shifts until she's settled between the two boys, hugging both of them.

 

     The silence of the workshop is a comforting blanket on them all as they drift off one by one.

 

*****

 

     Where the fuck is he? Harley tries to sit up and realizes that there's a weight holding him down. Or, more accurately, two weights. Morgan's curled up against his side, using him as a pillow. Her dark hair moves with every sleeping breath she lets out.

     Peter is lying beside Harley, pressed right up against him. He tries not to think about how close Peter's face is to his, propped up against his shoulder, or the fact that they apparently fell asleep still holding hands. Emotions are not a great thing to be dealing with as soon as you wake up.

     Morgan and Peter are still in deep slumber, and Harley doesn't want to disturb them, but his back is aching from spending the night on the lab floor. Carefully, slowly, he slides away from the other two and stands up to stretch, feeling his back crack in at least three places. _Fuck_.

 

     There's a movement in the corner of his eye. Pepper 's seated at the table where they were last night. They never took down the photos of Tony and Morgan before they fell asleep, and now she's looking at them with a wistful expression.

     Before this, every other time Harley saw Pepper she was perfectly calm and composed, the eye of the storm in Tony's hurricane. But since her husband's death, Harley's seen her drop the facade until she's not the Virginia Potts, CEO of the world-changing Stark Industries, just a woman who's grieving with a daughter who'll grow up fatherless.

 

     'Hey Pepper,' Harley says softly. She turns and starts.

     'Oh hi, Harley,' she waves the images away with a flick of her hand. There are shadows under her eyes and knots in her hair. She looks exhausted.

     'Morgan wasn't in her bed and neither were you or Peter, so I thought you might be down here.' Pepper nods towards the other boy, lying on the floor. 'You two are cute.' _Oh, shit_. Harley internally panics. Of course she noticed, she walked in here while they were all still asleep.

     'I, uh, it's not like that,' he blurts out.

     'Yet.' Pepper gives him a knowing look. Well, there's no escaping this now.

     'I don't even know if he likes me or not,' he says quietly. Discussing his crush, with _Pepper Potts_ of all people while Peter is literally right there is a recipe for potential disaster. Although, he should be thankful that it's her instead of Tony, otherwise he'd be dealing with endless teasing for the rest of his life. She lets out a small laugh.

     'If there's one thing either of you have in common with Tony, it's that you're clueless when it comes to romance.' She smiles. 'You'll figure it out.' Pepper turns towards the suit on the table. 'How's that going?'

 

     'Uh, it's going good so far,' Judging by what he's completed already, he should be done the physical assembly reasonably soon. Computer coding will take some more time though. 'Should be done before I have to go home.' He'll be happy to see his mother and Abbie again, but he's going to miss this place. And Morgan. And Peter, obviously.

     'That's good,' Pepper stands up. 'It's nice to see that you'll pick up where Tony left off.' Harley blinks at her tone and use of tense, until he realizes that she's not just talking about the suit itself.

 

_With great power comes great responsibility_ , a voice says in the back of his head, and he doesn't know where he's heard that before but that's not an issue he wants to deal with right now. Unable to think of anything, Harley just replies, 'Yeah.' _God, you're fucking lame. 'Yeah'?_

_'_ Okay, I'm going to go see what I can do for breakfast,' Pepper starts to walk away. 'Morgan's going to wake up soon, and I think all of you are going to be hungry.' As if on cue, Harley's stomach rumbles.

     'Alright, see you,' he calls. He picks up his tools and gets back to work, pushing out of his head all the thoughts sparked by Pepper's words.

 

*****

 

     It doesn't fully hit him until that afternoon.

 

     Most of the new suit has been put together by this point. Harley's setting the faceplate into the helmet, and it's then, staring at the metal visage that Tony bore for fifteen years, that he truly realizes.

     If he wears an Iron Man suit, he'll be wearing the title and all that comes with it as well, the reputation and the dependence the world will have on him. And in that moment, all Harley can think of is _I can't be him._

 

_I can't be him. I can't be him._ The words are echoing in his head, and he can't focus on anything else. Harley slumps onto a stool, putting his head in his hands so maybe he can hide from the world and not have to think.

 

     'C'mon, breathe,' There's an arm around his shoulder and a voice talking. Peter. 'Just breathe.' He tries to listen, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths.

     'I can't do this,' he tells Peter. 'I can't be Iron Man.'

     'You don't need to. Tony never said that because of the suit, you had to be Iron Man.'

     'Yeah, but I can't have the ability to do something,' Harley gestures to the helmet, 'and just stand by while the world goes to shit! Sorry Morgan,' he adds as she looks up from her drawing at the curse.

     'There are other Avengers out there to save the world,' Peter says.

     'I know, but- why don't you take the suit?' Harley asks suddenly. 'You're better at this. You're already a hero.'

     'I'm Spider-Man, dude,' he rebuffs gently. 'Tony designed this for _you._ Whatever happens to it is only up to you, not anyone else.' Harley sighs.

     'What do I do, then?'

     'Look, you don't have to be Iron Man to do what Tony did,' Peter leans closer. 'Be yourself, but remember him. Saving people doesn't work if you constantly try to be who you're not. There has to be a part of you in it.' he frowns. 'That doesn't make sense. Isn't that the point of having a title?'

     'No, I get it. I'll just… try to do him proud but be me, I guess. Wait, no one wants that. There'll be too many dramatic explosions,' he jokes.

     'Isn't that part of Tony's job, though? Kicking ass while being extra as hell? It'll be like he never left.'

 

     'That's true.' Harley turns and looks at Peter, flicking a strand of brown hair out of the other boy's eyes. Time seems to have slowed down for him, reality fading out as Peter takes his hand. _Okay, this is really happening._ Harley starts to move in, until he feels someone's gaze burning into the back of his head. He jerks around to see Morgan staring at the two of them.

     'What?' she asks innocently. Then the side of her mouth turns up, a shadow of Tony Stark's signature smirk marking her features. 'Do it.'

 

     Harley laughs, and then Peter's mouth is on his, his arms draping around Harley's neck. It's sweet and amazing and it seems far too short when Peter steps back and asks, 'Was that okay?'

 

     'You have no idea,' Harley smiles and pulls him in again.

 

*****

 

_'_ Hey Harley, come look at this,' Peter calls from Morgan's side. He sets down his armor and makes his way over to Morgan's station, where she's in the middle of drawing something. As he gets closer, he sees that it's a partial blueprint of an Iron Man suit, colored in pastel shades.

     'Holy crap, Morgan,' Harley says, going through the papers scattered on the table. All the diagrams are sketched with the rough art skills of a child, but it's close enough to the real thing that he can see her working out the basic interfaces and functions. Morgan grins at him proudly.

     'I'm gonna make my own suit someday,' she says. 'It's gonna shoot sparkles!' Harley ruffles her hair.

     'Oh yeah, bad guys are going to be terrified of Morgan Stark, the Sparkle Menace.' She giggles and turns back to the page, concentrating. 'Hmm, how does this go?' She begins drawing out a shaky repulsor beam.

 

     'Guess we'll leave you to it then,' Harley presses a kiss to Peter's temple as they go back to the other side of the lab. Both of them have settled into the relationship easily over the last few days, and it's nice to be with someone again. Of course, it'll have to be long-distance once Harley goes back to Rose Hill, but they still have almost a month of time left together and that's what they're holding onto for now.

 

     The suit is very close to being fully assembled. He's just adding minor details to its finish at this point, and then he can start creating an AI. Peter's promised to help Harley with that, he's familiar with Tony's programming seeing as he already works with Karen.

 

     Harley looks up and around the room, and that's when he notices.

 

     Peter's been messing around with the holograms of the Spider-Man suit all morning. Right now, a section of the suit is projected onto his arm as he taps on it, making changes before he plans to alter the real thing. Harley blinks, and Tony's almost standing there in Peter's place, moving holos around and calling out commands to FRIDAY.

     Morgan sits at the table, figuring out the mechanics of her project and laying down blueprints accordingly. Somehow she's found a schematic for one of her father's previous suits, pulling the projection up in front of her, using it as a guideline. It's like Harley can see Tony's ghost over Morgan's shoulder, sketching new ideas out while running calculations.

     He looks down at his own suit. For a split second Harley's hands are not his own, and he's not in a basement in upstate New York but an enormous workshop in Malibu, crafting a familiar mask in a mansion that today stands abandoned.

 

     Tony's never left. Parts of who he was are contained within each of the people in this lab, reflected in their actions, in their intellect, in what they believe. They're the next generation, left to inherit what Tony did and carry on with it. Legends never die, and no one's ever really gone.

 

_Be yourself, but remember him_. Now, Harley understands who he is. Who he can be.

 

*****

 

FOUR WEEKS LATER

 

 

_Holy fuck_. Harley was expecting his first mission to be a store break-in, or the smaller stuff that Peter does most of the time but nope, there's a major bank in Manhattan taken hostage by a gang and they need to be stopped.

     The perimeter has been secured, and he's perched on a high ledge outside, looking through a window. Using the suit's excellent imaging and scoping functions, he can focus on Peter, already inside as the Iron Spider. He's webbing up guys left and right while they attempt to shoot him. Peter seems to be doing fine while fighting, but as soon as he showed up one thug armed a pretty huge bomb in the atrium, where they've herded all the bank staff, and if it's not taken care of then everyone is going to die.

 

     Harley smashes through the window and flies down into the lobby, landing on the stone-tiled floor with a knee and a fist to the ground, the other one raised. Classic Tony move. At the sight of his black-and-blue armor clad figure, all the robbers them fall back, but still turn to attack.

     'What the fuck? Is that Iron Man?' one screams, beginning to fire. 'I thought he was dead!' The bullets merely ricochet off of him, and the man falls with a burning chunk taken out of his knee. Behind the mask, Harley is grinning savagely.

     'Wrong day to rob a bank, dude,' he says cheerfully, blasting the guy's comrades with repulsors. Several meters away, Peter does a flying flip and lands on another pair of thugs, taking them down. It's complete chaos now, the hostages cheering for the superheroes.

 

     'The hostile at nine o' clock has the detonator,' ABBIE's robotic voice chirps in his ear.

     'Crap,' he mutters. 'On it.' The robber in question is standing beside the bomb, a remote in her hand and a gun in the other. As Harley approaches, she brandishes the detonator.

     'One more step, and we all go to hell!' she warns, but her voice is shaking.

     'How about no,' Peter's voice comes from behind her. As she turns around, he swings by on a web line and snatches the device from her grasp, pressing the button to disarm the bomb.

     'The rest of you assholes, _stand down_ ,' Harley commands them. The remaining five or six robbers point their guns at him instead.

     'Okay, you asked for it,' he shrugs. 'Spider-Man, get out of the way.' Peter lands high up on one of the atrium's marble columns. 'ABBIE, engage the Thor Protocol.'

     'Engaging protocol, sir,' The AI replies. Seconds later, a huge electrical surge crackles outwards from Harley's suit, wreathing the robbers in blue lightning until they fall to the ground, unconscious.

     Stepping over a slightly smoking thug, Harley walks over to the civilians, who were wise enough to take cover behind the desks during the fight.

     'All of you can go now,' he tells them, pointing towards the exit. 'It's safe.' Too shocked to do anything else, they follow his words and leave.

 

     The police are already waiting outside, ready to grab witnesses and analyze the incident. Not wanting to deal with them just yet, Harley grabs Peter and pulls him behind the nearest marble column, retracting his helmet to laugh in exhilaration.

     'That was amazing!' he gasps. Peter pulls off his own mask.

     'Yeah?' he grins. 'Most of the stuff I do is more boring than this. That was fun.' Still on a victory high, Harley presses Peter into the stone pillar and kisses him.

     'Okay, okay,' he laughs, pushing Harley back gently. 'Don't forget, this isn't over. There's still the cops we have to talk to. And the press,' Peter says, more dejectedly.

     'Dammit. Alright, let's go. The sooner we can get back home, then..' Harley trails off but smirks at Peter instead, letting him fill in the blanks. The other boy just shakes his head fondly and puts his mask back on, leaving Harley to do the same as they reveal themselves to the police.

 

     The cops aren't actually as bad to deal with as Harley thought. At least, not when Peter's around. They're familiar with Spider-Man already, respectful but efficient with their questioning, and Peter does the talking for him so Harley's not too uncomfortable. The reporters, however, are a different story.

     'Spider-Man, tell us how you defeated the burglars!' one yells excitedly, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. There's a whole hoard of flashing camera lights on the bank steps. It's a bit overwhelming.

     'Well, it wasn't too difficult. New York's criminals need to step up their game,' Peter snarks, making the reporters laugh, 'But it was still good to have some help from my friend here.' He claps Harley on the shoulder. Great. Now the attention's on him.

     'Who are you?' another reporter asks, looking at his armor. 'Are you the next Iron Man?' The question spreads through the crowd, repeated over and over. But Harley's been expecting this.

     'No, I'm not Iron Man,' He holds out a gauntleted hand, shushing the press as they wait in anticipation.

 

_I am the next generation. I am continuing what Iron Man started. I am the heir of a symbol, but not its title. I am. I am…_

 

_'_ I am the Iron Legacy.'

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know Iron Lad is a thing, but by comic canon that's a younger version of Kang the Conqueror and that requires too much research that a student like me doesn't have time for. Plus, I like the name Iron Legacy better, so let me live and don't come @ me please.
> 
> I don't know if I was or not, but in case I wasn't too clear Abbie is Harley's younger sister. I always thought that that was her canon name, 'cause in nearly every Harley fic I've read that's what people call her, but no, she doesn't have a name in the movies and Abbie is just what most of the fandom unanimously decided on.
> 
> I apologize for blatantly ripping off previous Spider-Man movies and Star Wars with my references, that's what happens when you have too many fandoms and not enough originality.
> 
> Once again, kudos, comments and creative criticism are welcome. Thanks for reading!


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